


The Bull and the Rabbit

by threeparts



Series: Fenny Lavelly and the Art of Shooting People in the Face [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, F/M, Masturbation, NSFW, PWP, Public Sex, a lil bit of humiliation kink, role play, uhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 07:07:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4867712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threeparts/pseuds/threeparts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Iron Bull is curious about what it's like to be the Inquisitor. Feniradel Lavellan is more than happy to cede the dragon throne to him for a night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bull and the Rabbit

Feniradel liked to visit the tavern on the nights when she wasn't preoccupied with meetings or lessons, or simply falling into bed as soon as she could. Out of her armour, her hair loose from its braid and her mark hidden under a pair of Dalish hand wraps, she could fade into the background, just another elf among many—especially now that more of the People had begun to pledge their service to the Inquisition. Oh, there were always a few who noticed her, stopped her for a greeting or a quick word, but once she climbed the stairs and took a table on the second floor, people rarely bothered her except those who knew they'd be welcome. The Herald's Rest was an apt name.

 

Sera would drop by early, chattering about her latest ideas or to leave a tip about which of the newcomers to Skyhold the Inquisitor—but Fen up here, only ever _Fen_ or _Lavellan_ —should keep an eye on. Dorian was a regular most nights that he wasn't up in the library, immersed in his own research. He'd complained about most of the alcohol on offer in the Rest, but somehow he always found something he was willing to choke down—“If you can get through the first glass, it blunts the ghastliness of the second,” he explained—even if his descriptions became more colourful the further he got through the bottle.

Sera would wander off after a while, sometimes on a mission of her own, other times to join Rainier by the bar below. There was still tension between the soldier and the Inquisitor, for all that she'd had him dragged from the Val Royeaux gallows back to Skyhold, and the mood had quickly soured the one time Sera had pulled him over to join the table on the second floor.

Some nights Varric would join them, coaxing the table into a card game or venting about his latest run in with the Merchants Guild or the Seeker. The dwarf looked older, more worn than when he and Fen had first met near the Breach. He bore the loss of his best friend heavily, and although he never seemed to blame the Inquisitor for Hawke's disappearance in the Fade, she wondered if there wasn't a part of him that resented her for it. So she would listen and sympathise with him, and would join his games when he offered, even though practically everyone knew how to beat her at cards now—the Inquisitor started grinning when she had a bad hand, evidently amused by how badly she was about to lose.

The party would grow when Varric pulled out a deck of cards, other regulars joining for a hand or two before dropping away—Adan, Harding, Dennet, even Belle or Frederic on the rare occasions they decided to pay the tavern a visit. Sky Watcher had joined once, been soundly beaten at a game of Wicked Grace, and then had taught them all an Avvar dice game, the rules of which even now, months later, people were still trying to keep straight.

And then there was the Iron Bull and his Chargers. The Chargers would come and go throughout the evenings they were back at the keep, stopping to greet the Inquisitor and share stories of the work they had been doing. Rocky and Dalish were the most frequent visitors, but Bull himself would usually end up upstairs by the end of the night, a contingent of the remaining Chargers following him to the table for a few last rounds of cards or drinks. He'd drop into a chair by Fen, handing her a fresh cup of whatever she had been drinking—cider for preference, though occasionally mead—before wrapping an arm around her waist and asking Varric to deal him in.

No one commented on these casual touches any more. Any teasing about their lack of discretion had seemed empty when it came to light that Bull and the Inquisitor been sleeping together for over a year before anyone besides Leliana and Krem had found out. They were at ease around each other, and after years of seeing the two fighting and travelling side-by-side, the relationship seemed natural to their friends, just an extension to how the Inquisitor and her bodyguard worked together.

So the evenings would pass, in a haze of small talk about small joys and small problems, where it was possible to forget, for a few hours, the weight of all the responsibilities that hung over them. Fen would make her apologies a few hours before midnight, still unused to late evenings after a lifetime of sleeping and rising with the sun. Some nights Bull would rise with her, and the two would make their way to her tower together. Other nights he'd linger, and she'd lay a hand on his shoulder and press a kiss to the top of his head as they wished each other a good night. A Charger might make a comment after she'd left, but Bull was always too smug to be ruffled by the attention.

 

Tonight they'd both stayed much later than usual, celebrating Krem's birthday with a small feast in the part of the tavern the Chargers had long ago claimed for themselves. The evening had drawn on as rounds were bought, toasts were made, and gifts were thrust upon the increasingly inebriated man. Fen had presented him with an ironbark dagger, and Bull had handed over a bottle of spirits that she'd seen him pick out carefully on their last trip to Val Royeaux, whatever his claim about it being the only thing he could find in the Redcliffe tavern. The party ran late, and while Fen had nodded off for a little while, leaning against Dalish as the others chattered and called out requests to Maryden, she was awake to see Krem staggering off to the Chargers' quarters some time after midnight, arm in arm with Grim and Stitches, singing a song about nugs that Harding had taught them. The others had begun drifting away to their own beds, and Fen and Bull joined them, wandering out of the tavern together. They were both a little drunk, their gaits unsteady, but it was a fine summer night and for once the mountains were tolerably warm. Fen yawned and stretched comfortably in the fresh air, gazing up at the stars as she worked a kink out of her spine. She relaxed again and took Bull's waiting arm, tugging him towards the back of the tavern.

“Let's go up on the walls,” she suggested. “It's too nice to go back inside just yet.”

“You're not cold?” he asked, letting himself be towed along.

Fen shook her head. “I think I'm too drunk to be cold,” she grinned. “Besides, that's why I'm bringing you along.”

“Commander of the Chargers and personal bedwarmer to the Inquisitor, that's me.” He rested his hand on her back as they climbed the stairs to the wall.

“Coat, too, don't forget.”

“Right, personal coat and bedwarmer.”

At the top they bid a patrolling guard a good evening, and Fen wandered over to the far wall, looking through an embrasure at the Inquisition army spread out in the valley below. A half moon was in the sky, but the camp was cast into shadow by the looming mountains and a hundred different campfires shone in the darkness.

“'S pretty,” she said, as Bull leaned against the wall beside her. “Little fireflies.”

“Bet it's less pretty down there, camped in the snow all year.” He scratched his chin absently. “Surprised there haven't been more cases of frostbite.”

“The Seeker made the mages do something to the tents. Made them warmer? I don't remember exactly, but Cullen said it was working.”

“Magic tents, huh?” Bull grunted. “Can they make ours not tear?”

“I told you, you need to put corks on the end of your horns.”

“I am not wearing corks to bed, kadan,” Bull said firmly, tugging her into the circle of his arms as Fen giggled. “We just need a bigger tent.”

“I'll tell Josie we need a new supplier. Bigger tents so Bull can get up and take a piss in the middle of the night and not leave a gaping hole above our bedroll.” She turned, her back to the stone wall, and looked up at him with a grin.

“I'll give you a gaping hole in the middle of the night,” he muttered, taking her by the waist and lifting her onto a flat-topped merlon.

“Is that a promise?” asked Fen, her smile hidden as he bent forward and kissed her. He pulled away after a moment, but Fen leaned back in, her arms slipping around his neck. They were quiet for a few long moments, only the occasional sigh or whisper escaping from their otherwise occupied lips. The sound of approaching footsteps finally drove them apart, and Bull straightened to give the passing guard a nod. His arms were still wrapped around Fen, and if the guard noticed the small elf sitting on the wall, then she wisely chose not to say anything.

Fen leaned forward with a sigh, resting her head against Bull's shoulder, her hands tracing across his ribs.

“Want to go in now?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the tip of one long ear.

“Not particularly.” She kissed his shoulder in return, then straightened. “But we'll just start a whole new set of rumours if we stay.”

Stepping back, Bull let her slip off the merlon, and they walked along the top of the wall towards the mage tower. “What, you don't want to see what new verses they'll stick onto The Bull and the Rabbit?”

“I'm not sure they could top the bit about how we brought spring to Sahrnia.”

“'She rode the bull hard',” Bull sung quietly as they circled the tower. “'His flanks in a lather.

The beast never slowed, only pounded along faster.

She rode him through snow, rode him 'cross ice,

When they got to the keep, well, they rode round it twice!'”

He grinned at Fen, who was covering her mouth as she stifled her laughter. “At least it's catchy.”

“It's _terrible_ ,” she snorted. “I wish I knew who started it. Sera swears it wasn't her.”

“No one'll ever admit to it. They're probably afraid you'd have them locked up for the Warden bits.”

Fen groaned as they started down the stairs to the garden. “Tempting. Why couldn't they have gone with The Bull and the Halla or something? Rabbit's so insulting.”

“Hey, at least you get to be on top. I'm just your poor mount.”

“Just shows they don't know what they're talking about.” Fen slipped her hand into his as they wandered through the silent, shadowed courtyard.

“You can't blame them for thinking it. There is that whole army in the valley, remember?”

“Oh yes, my own personal army. Full of kids looking for adventure and religious fanatics who couldn't pick their beloved Herald of Andraste out of a crowd.”

“Hey, don't knock it. Plenty of your people just want to fight the bastard threatening to end the world. Seems like a good cause to me,” Bull turned to her, lifting her chin with one big hand. “Same reason I'm still working for you, remember?”

She tilted her head, large green eyes shining in the darkness. “That the only reason?”

“One of a couple. But it's a pretty good one.” He rubbed her cheek with his thumb and she kissed the palm of his hand. “I know you hate the whole Herald thing, but it's given people a chance to fight for the shit they care about. That's important; more important than someone getting a little over-awed when they meet you.”

“I know. I'm sorry.” Fen ducked her head. “It's just all too much sometimes.”

“Yeah. But hey, some of those kids are gonna come out of it ready for the next time the world goes to shit. Get through this and you can retire, let them take over.” He squeezed her shoulder and his hand slipped down to her back, guiding her towards the door to the great hall.

“I like that plan. Let someone else hold the fate of the world in their hands. I'll send them a box of candy and a sympathetic letter.”

“At least no one can accuse you of letting the power go to your head.”

Laughing as Bull pushed the door open, Fen said, “Like any of you would let it. I start getting demanding and I'd find a new and exciting variety of reptile in my bed every night until I stopped and said sorry.”

 

Skyhold's great hall was cool and silent this long past midnight. The braziers burned low, glowing red coals providing less light than the half moon shining through the enormous stained glass windows. The nobles, guards and other visitors that usually crowded the hall had long since retired, leaving the entire keep silent but for the soldiers patrolling the walls, a sleepy servant running a late errand in the warrens below ground, and a few very dedicated patrons at the tavern. The hall was furnished simply, offering comfort and warmth but little in the way of pageantry. Drapes of green and gold were hung on the walls, the same colours as the Lavellan aravels: Fen's reminder to all who might have arrived with misconceptions about the Inquisitor that she was Dalish, and no talk of the Chantry's wishes or the Maker's desires would sway her decisions or blunt her opinions.

Fen and Bull wandered through the hall together, the room feeling gloomy and cavernous without its crowds, the throne on the dais alone and looming in a pool of moonlight

“See, now this is what I'm talking about.” Bull dropped into the throne, the dragon's skull a menacing silhouette of bone, teeth and horn. He settled, arms resting on the sides, knees spread. “No wonder that Servis guy practically shat himself in front of you. The Inquisitor, slayer of dragons and demons and shit, sitting on a giant fanged throne with his life in her hands.” He looked at her. “How do you not get off on that?”

Fen snorted and stroked the skull, fingers trailing over the giant curved teeth. “Because I have to figure out how to deal fairly with people who might not have done anything to _me_ , and then for the next month I get to listen to people list off all the ways I did it wrong.”

“Yeah, but you get to decide their entire future.”

“Yeah, exactly, I have to decide their entire future.” She made a face at him. “Next time the guards drag someone in and throw them to their knees in front of me, _you_ decide what happens to them.”

“Hmm,” Bull said, looking speculatively at her. “I might need some practice first. Just to get used to it.” His hand reached over and cupped her hip, pushing her to stand in front of him. “Why don't you show me how it feels?”

Fen giggled, “What, right now?”

“Go on. Everyone else is asleep. Why not?”

“You're ridiculous,” she said, but dropped down anyway to rest on her knees, hands folded in her lap. “Oh, great lord Inquisitor,” she said, in an exaggerated plea. “Won't you have mercy on me? I only, um. I stole your soldier's horse so I could get home to my sick baby.”

“Hmm.” Bull stroked his stubbled chin. “A theft is a theft, even for a good cause. That soldier could have been late to a battle to save someone else's life.” He leaned back into the shadow of the throne, surveying her. “You'll have to be more convincing than that.”

“Oh, but ser!” Fen's eyes widened as the moonlight shone down upon her upturned face. “I don't believe the soldier would have gone into the battle. I heard him talking to his companion. I think they may have been… deserters!”

“Deserters! Now that's a serious charge. If you're lying, you could get an innocent man hanged.”

Fen scuttled forward a little on her knees, and clutched at the leg of his pants. “Cre— Maker's truth, I swear. I would _never_ dare dirty the name of your mighty Inquisition.”

“It sounds like you're lying so that I'll let you go. Nope, sorry, your clever tongue isn't going to get you out of this.”

“But ser… what if I put my clever tongue in your service instead?” Fen's voice went from a pleading whine to a more inviting murmur, and she rested her hands on Bull's spread knees. She knew where this was going, and although the role was a silly one she found herself not really caring. They were alone and it was, well. Kind of fun.

“An interesting proposition,” he said, his eye glittering in the dim light. “Go on.”

Fen's hands slid up his thighs, feeling the muscles underneath the thick fabric. “I have heard that my lord is pleased to make use of those who are willing to surrender to him.” Her hands went higher, pressing down on his loose pants until she felt the warm lump of his cock, and ran her fingers teasingly over the shaft.

“And what use may I make out of you?” Bull shifted slightly, his legs spreading wider, allowing her to move closer.

Stroking him through his pants with one hand, Fen reached for his waistband with the other. “I have experience as a chambermaid, my Lord.” She ran her fingertips lightly over his stomach before dipping down into his pants, feeling soft flesh and then coarse hair as she sought out his cock. “And I would make a fine body servant.” He was already hardening as her hand wrapped as far around him as it would reach, and she eagerly tugged his cock free of his pants. She felt giddy, knowing she shouldn't be doing this—not in the hall, not when there were guards awake and patrolling—but she found she didn't want to stop, the danger more enticing than frightening.

“What did your experience as a chambermaid involve?” asked Bull, his voice a soft purr.

“All sorts of things.” She looked up at him as she rose on her knees, pushing the wraps off her hands and up her wrists before gently stroking his thick cock. Her movements were slow and careful, her hands too dry for more. “Anything,” she added, leaning forward, “That my lord might… require.” Her tongue darted out to lick the underside of his cock's head as she gazed up at Bull, and she felt him twitch between her hands.

“You seem very eager,” he replied, and he reached out to tuck some stray strands of hair behind her ear. “If you're so willing, why don't you show me just how far these skills go?” He raised an eyebrow at Fen, and she understood the question there.

She didn’t know if it was the mead she'd drunk, or the thrill of danger, or just the warmth growing between her thighs, but she already knew the answer.

“Gladly, my lord,” she replied, and ducked her head down to lick him again. She felt him sink a little lower in the throne, loosening his pants to give her better access, and she leaned forward to take advantage of it. She stroked him gently again, pulling down his foreskin to tease the broad head of his cock with her tongue, licking along the edge of his glans and paying special attention to the spot on the underside that she knew he liked. He smelled faintly of ale and leather, but mostly of the musky scent she had come to think of as Qunari sweat—strong, but less sharp and acidic than humans, and all the more heady for it being so uniquely _Bull_. She leaned forward, her breasts pressing against his thighs as she left open-mouthed kisses along his length, her tongue trailing along his warm, firm flesh, before licking back up and taking the head of his cock in her mouth. He made a quiet noise, and she looked up at him as she sucked gently, her tongue swirling over the underside and teasing his hole, tasting his bitterness. He watched her intently, stroking over her cheek with his thumb, following the line of her vallaslin, but said nothing.

He'd swollen in her hands, now firm and heavy and so achingly thick, and she felt herself grow wet at the thought of him entering her and the way he stretched her open, filling her so completely. She paused and licked each of her palms in turn before wrapping them back around him, stroking him harder, sometimes licking along his shaft or circling his glans, other times sucking on the head of his cock, trying to take him deeper into her mouth.

Careful of her teeth, she pushed forward, frowning in concentration, feeling him in the back of her mouth before she had to pull back or gag. She heard him groan softly and smiled to herself before trying again, her tongue broad and soft as it rubbed against the underside of his cock. She felt his hand on the back of her head then, holding her in place as he enjoyed the warmth of her mouth. She stilled, trusting him not to push her further, and breathed slowly, her hands still stroking the rest of him. He released her after a moment, and Fen felt his hands slip through her thick, dark hair, tugging her back slightly. She followed, then let him push her forward again, her lips tightening as they slid over the edge of his glans, then again as she was pulled back. The taste of him was stronger now, his pre-come mixing with her saliva, the flavour familiar if not entirely pleasant. But it was a taste that was linked firmly to pleasure both given and received in her memories, and she squeezed her thighs together and felt the seam of her trousers rubbing slightly against her wet slit as she bobbed on his cock. It was the barest of friction against her, enough only to tease, and she tried to ignore her growing desire to concentrate on his.

Bull guided her with the hand in her hair and she let herself go, ceding control to him, letting him pick the pace and use her mouth as he chose. Instead, one of her hands slipped up and tugged his trousers lower, reaching down to cradle his sack in her hand. It was too big to hold comfortably, but she let his balls rest warm and heavy in her palm while her other hand kept stroking his cock. The glow from her mark left soft, flicking shadows in the corner of her vision as she moved her hands, but it was dim enough not to be a distraction. Fen breathed heavily, letting her body move up and down, seeking stimulation from the seam on her trousers. She wanted to touch herself, wanted to slip a hand down to pleasure herself as well as him, but she knew well enough that she would have to wait for his permission or she would pay the price later. That thought made her groan deep in her throat, imagining him pulling her up and across his lap as he sat in the throne, tugging down her pants and spanking her ass, and she was almost tempted to do it for that alone. Bull's cock twitched again at her groan, and she looked up at him, humming inquiringly, her mouth stretched wide around his thickness. His hand tightened in her hair and he tugged her back, and she sighed in disappointment as he pulled her mouth from his cock.

“Your point has been very well taken,” he murmured, releasing her hair and smoothing his hand over it. “I think you would make a fine recruit. Get up.”

She let go of his cock and stood, knees a little stiff from the cool floor. She clasped her hands demurely in front of her, conscious of the wetness on her lips, the taste of him in her mouth.

“Your sentence: To be made use of by the Inquisitor, in whatever way he desires.”

“As my lord wishes,” Fen replied quietly, and looked up at him through her eyelashes. “And what desires does the Inquisitor have?”

“Hmm...” Bull took her hands in his, tugging her forward onto the throne with him, her legs spread to straddle his thighs, his cock lying warm and heavy between them. He held her wrists together in one hand and let the other roam over her, a brush across her cheek and down over her shoulder, making her twitch as he ran his fingers down her side and then across her stomach and up to her breasts. He squeezed one gently in his palm, her small, round breasts less than a handful for him, and let his thumb circle her nipple through the thick cloth. She arched her back, presenting her chest to him, enjoying his touch.

“Show me what you have to offer.” Bull said, releasing her wrists and dropping his hands to her hips. “If you are truly willing to dedicate yourself to my service.”

The unspoken question again. Fen felt her neck prickle as she hesitated. Her back would be to the rest of the hall, and there were few guards roaming the inner part of the castle at this hour, but the risk of them being caught in a compromising situation was growing. A guard or a servant could wander through, see the Inquisitor on her bodyguard's lap, breasts bared. They could see Bull teasing and pinching her nipples, or see her stripped naked and sliding down on Bull's thick cock, her back arched, his hands gripping her hips, digging into her soft flesh. They could be seen, they may have been spotted already, some guard could be standing in a dark alcove, his cock in hand, thinking about fucking her too… The idea made her shiver as she reached up to unbutton her woollen shirt.

She felt Bull's palms slide up her waist as she undid each button, his hands warm and strong, calloused thumbs brushing little circles on her stomach. She undid the last button and reached up to pull her shirt open, leaving it on her shoulders but baring her chest to his gleaming eye. A shard from a dragon's tooth lay between her full breasts, hanging from a leather thong and pale against her brown skin. He smiled, looking pleased, and she shivered again as his hands slid up her ribcage to cup a breast in each hand. He squeezed and teased her dark nipples, dragging his rough fingertips down the sides of her breasts and underneath, and pressing them together before taking her nipples between his thumb and forefingers and pinching. She breathed hard, her hands on his stomach as she leaned into his touch, the sensation as he rolled her nipples intense but not painful. He pulled them harder, and she gasped, leaning forward, following his hands, feeling his cock brush against her crotch just before she felt his lips on hers. He kissed her deeply, sweetly, even as he squeezed her nipples beyond the point of pain and she whimpered quietly. His grip softened as she felt him smile against her mouth, then tug on her lower lip with his teeth before pulling away to press first a kiss and then his teeth against her neck, just under her ear. He bit down, then licked the place he had bitten, squeezing her nipples and then soothing them with gentle strokes just as he had done her neck. All the while Fen could feel his cock pressed between his belly and hers. Her thighs trembled both with desire and with weakness, spread so far apart across his lap. His kisses trailed down her throat to her collarbone, gentle kisses followed by licking and sucking and biting kisses and her hips rolled, desperately seeking more stimulation. She reached up, her hands on his wrists as he cupped her breasts again, stroking down his forearms and up to his broad shoulders, clutching at them, nails digging in as he sucked hard at her shoulder. He was leaving marks, and the thought of that elicited a groan just as much as the feel of his tongue tracing along her collarbone. Her hands traced along his shoulders, squeezing and rubbing until he pushed her shoulders back, making her arch her back higher, her crotch rising above of his lap as he bent his head to suck a nipple into his mouth. Fen gasped, and cradled the back of his head, reaching under his horns to pull him against her chest as she felt his tongue and teeth tease her, biting down on a groan. He switched to the other breast, his hands slipping down to her waist and then even lower, cupping her ass and supporting her as she rose to meet his mouth.

“Oh, _sathan_ , vhenan,” she groaned as he sucked gently on her, then gasped as he bit down again.

He pulled away and looked up at her. “What was that?” he said, his voice cold, and Fen remembered the part she was supposed to be playing.

“My lord,” she replied, ducking her head. She felt him squeeze her ass at this, and went on, thinking quickly, “I only wished to say how thankful I am for your mercy; you have been kinder than I deserve.”

Bull tilted his head as he looked at her, and said, “You know, you're right. I have been very generous.” He looked over her bare tits, marked by his mouth, her nipples achingly stiff. “Maybe I should go harder on you, stop you from getting any ideas about your place in the Inquisition.”

Fen looked at him apprehensively, worried about what she'd gotten herself into with her hastily-covered slip. “I am, as ever, at your command, my lord,” she murmured quietly, ducking her head.

“Stand up,” he ordered, releasing her. “And turn around.”

Wriggling off his lap, it took a moment for Fen to regain her balance, her thighs a little sore from being spread so wide as she straddled him. It was a familiar sensation, and she knew it would pass quickly. She turned, very aware that she was properly on display now, her mark illuminating the swell of her breasts.

“If you're a willing servant of the Inquisitor, if you really want to show that you're sorry, strip naked.”

The command was firm, but the wording was deliberate. She could stop this here and he would understand. They could take their game upstairs to the privacy of her bedroom where they could take their time without the risk of being caught. She shivered. It was cool in the hall, and her nipples were still hard, more now from the temperature than the stimulation. It wouldn't be the first time he had taken her outside of their bedroom and in the grounds of Skyhold—he'd fucked her against the back wall of the tavern more than once; held his hand over her mouth while his fingers filled her in a quiet corner of the library; had even taken her on the war table after a discussion with Cullen about the deployment of the Chargers. He knew that the risk was part of what turned her on, but neither of them had pushed it this far before.

She shifted uncertainly for a moment, and heard him say, “Kadan...” and the softness in his voice decided it for her.

“Please forgive my hesitation, my lord.” Fen said, shrugging off her shirt and letting it fall to the floor. “It won't happen again.” She fumbled at the buttons on her pants before sliding them down off her hips, shuffling off her soft slippers as she stepped out of them, and tugging off the wraps around her forearms. She wanted to turn to Bull, see if she'd surprised him, but didn't dare.

He didn't say anything at all for a long moment, then, with an odd edge to his voice, he ordered, “Spread your legs, Fenny.”

She obeyed swiftly, half expecting a slap on her ass. Instead, she felt his hands on the back of her thighs, wrapping around her legs near her knees and stroking upwards, smoothing over the sore muscles to her ass, which he squeezed, letting his thumbs trail down the cleft of her ass and slide teasingly close to her pussy as he drew them back down. He did it again, thumbs moving even closer to her slit this time, and she leaned forward, pushing her ass back into his touch.

Fenny heard him laugh quietly. “This is meant to be a punishment; I think you're enjoying yourself too much.”

His hands reached for her hips and he pulled her backwards. She nearly tripped as the back of her foot hit the throne, but he held her steady, guiding her back down to his lap, this time facing the empty hall. He pulled her close, an arm around her stomach pressing her bare back against his warm chest, and she could feel the hard lump of his cock under her ass.

“Now,” he said, “I think we should show the Inquisition just how much you've repented. Spread your legs.” She did so, hooking her knees to either side of his, sinking a little lower against him. “Good girl, Fenny. Close your eyes.”

Doing as she was told, Fenny shivered as she felt Bull lean forward, his breath on her ear, his voice a low rumble. “All the soldiers are gathered in the hall to see you. Dozens of them, they're filling the room. They know about your theft, and your lie about deserters.” His hands slipped down to her legs, sliding up and down the insides of her thighs. “They're angry. That could have been any one of them. They want to see you hurt and humiliated. They want to make you pay for what you did.” She could feel his lips brush against her ear as he whispered and she shivered, imagining the scene. “Maybe, if you put on a good enough show, you can convince them you're worth forgiving. But if you fail…” She felt teeth graze her ear as his arms wrapped around her again. “Touch yourself.”

With a quiet whimper, Fenny slid her hand down between her thighs. They were wet, as were the soft curls on her mound. She cupped her pussy, slipping a finger down the outside of her slit and drawing it back up, letting it sink into her warm, wet folds.

“They can't see you, Fenny,” Bull reminded her and she shuddered in his arms.

She reached down with her other hand, using her fingers to spread her slit wide, and drew her knees up, her bare feet resting on the edge of the throne.

Her fingers stroked along the inner lips of her pussy and she teased her entrance with a finger, feeling herself flooded with creamy wetness. She drew her fingers back up, circling across her clit before rubbing across it, side to side.

“Good girl. They're all watching you, you know. They can't look away. Some of them are thinking about how much they'd like to come up here and fuck you, make you hold yourself open while they touch you or lick you, tell you to rub your little pussy while they fill you with their cocks or fingers or tongues.” His tongue traced the edge of her sensitive ear, and he whispered, “Slip a finger inside yourself, Fenny.”

Her hips rolled as he touched her, and she followed his instructions, sighing softly as she pushed her middle finger inside her warm depths. One of the arms crossing her stomach loosened, and she felt him cup her breast in his hand, squeezing gently.

“Some of them think you're disgusting, sitting up here, exposing yourself like this.” Fenny whimpered again, rubbing herself harder. “They think you're filthy, a little slut who'd fuck anyone I told her to. Are you a little slut, Fenny?”

She gasped, pressing back at him. “No,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut tight.

“No? But what if I want you to be?” He trapped her nipple between two fingers as he squeezed her breast again.

A shuddery breath was her only reply, her finger slipping easily in and out of her pussy.

“If I ordered you to go to the nearest soldier and ask him to fuck you, would you obey me, Fenny? He's rubbing his cock while he watches you. He wants you, he'd fuck you if you offered.”

She made a sound high in her throat, and gasped unsteadily as she forced herself to answer, “Only if you wanted me to, my lord.”

“Use another finger, Fenny.” The tongue was back on her ear, followed by his lips, sucking gently for a moment. A second finger joined the first and she twisted her hand so her palm rubbed over her clit while she pumped them slowly in and out.

“Would you fuck anyone I told you to, Fenny?” he asked, his voice low and his breath hot against her neck.

“Only—” She gasped at the sensation of his lips sucking on the tip of her ear, and swallowed hard. “Only if you wanted me to. Only if you told me to—” She let out a breathy moan as he nipped her, before forcing out, “My lord.”

“If I told you to lay on one of the tables and said anyone in the room who wanted could fuck you, would you do that for me, little Fenny?” His fingers teased her nipple, plucking it back into stiffness.

She moaned louder this time, pressing back against his chest, her hips bucking against her palm. When she didn't answer, he pinched down hard on her nipple and she let out a whimper.

“If— If it pleased you. I'd do it if it pleased you, ser.”

“You would fuck anyone I told you to, whenever I told you to? You'd let a room full of people fuck you, Fenny?”

“No,” she whispered, feeling herself tense up around her fingers.

“You just said you would, Fenny. You sound like a little slut to me.”

“No,” she repeated softly, rocking back and forth, feeling his cock hot and hard under her ass, his fingers twisting her nipple, his mouth teasing her ear.

“You'd be a little slut for me if I wanted you to, wouldn't you?”

“Only for you.” Her words were barely audible, even in the silent hall, almost drowned out by the sound of her fingers driving into her pussy and their combined heavy breathing.

“You'd be my little slut, Fenny?”

She whimpered, feeling herself so close. “Yes,” she breathed.

“Yes _what_ , Fenny?”

“I'd be your good little slut, Bu— My lord.”

“Good girl. Stop touching yourself.” Releasing her breast, Bull reached down and tugged her hands away from her pussy.

Fenny almost cried out in dismay. She'd been so close, if he'd just let her keep going for a little longer—! Instead she whimpered and clutched at the arm wrapped around her middle, rocking against him, desperate for any contact against her aching pussy. She heard him laugh softly, and begged, “Please, please touch me. _Please_.”

“In a moment,” he said, pressing a kiss against her ear. “I never said you were allowed to come, Fenny.”

She groaned in frustration, her toes curling. “Please, ser, may I come?”

“Are your eyes still closed?”

“Yes, ser.”

“Then you can't see the crowd. You've gotten them all worked up, thinking about fucking you. Some have their cocks out, stroking them while they stare at you. Some have their hands down their pants, rubbing themselves just like you were. If I let go of you, they'd probably drag you into the hall and take you on the floor. Would you like that?”

She whined, her nails digging into his arm.

“Do you want to be fucked, Fenny?”

“Yes,” she moaned softly. “Please.”

“You want me to let them have you?”

“No.” She ground down against his cock, pleading in her voice. “Don't want them.”

“What do you want?”

“You,” she breathed. “Just want you.”

“Tell me what you want, Fenny.”

“Want you to fuck me, ser.” She rocked against him, and he slid a hand down to cup her pussy. She sighed, trying to push against it. “Want you inside me, want you to make me come.”

Bull put the slightest bit of pressure against her mound and she whimpered, lifting her hips, trying to feel more. “What do I get out of it, Fenny?” he asked.

“Anything, please, _anything_. Fuck me, take me, come inside me, want you, want to feel you inside me,” Fenny babbled, unable to concentrate on anything except the hand that rested over her slit but wouldn't touch her.

“You make a very good case, little Fenny.” Bull's hand moved, and suddenly there was a long, thick finger pushing through her folds and pressing inside her, and Fenny cried out softly. He pumped it in and out of her slowly, avoiding touching her clit even as she rocked against him.

“Do you wa—” Bull's next words were cut off as a door creaked open at the end of the hall. They both froze, Bull's finger still inside the suddenly motionless Fen as a beam of light cut across the hall and a servant with a candle entered from the passageway that led out to the walls, pulling the door closed behind them. The two were still mostly in the shadow of the throne, and the glow from her mark was hidden as her hand clutched at Bull's arm, but Fen's clothes lay in a heap in the moonlight, perfectly obvious to anyone who cared to glance that way. The servant shuffled along slowly, and Fen heard them yawn as they came closer, her nails digging hard into Bull. She wanted to close her legs, but was certain that the slightest movement would draw the servant's attention, no matter how sleepy they might be. For a long moment it looked as if the servant was headed for the door to Fen's tower and thus certain to see the pair as they walked by, but they veered off and fumbled at the door that lead to Josephine's office and the back stairs, mumbling, “birds aren't even _awake_ at this hour, his stupid bloody letter can wait,” before the door swung shut behind them.

It was several seconds before Fen remembered to breathe again, and she felt Bull's finger slip out of her as he relaxed.

“Ah, shit,” he groaned. “You all right, kadan?”

Fenny tilted her head back to look up at him, her hand squeezing his wrist tightly.

“I need you to fuck me,” she said, her voice tense and urgent. “Right _now._ ”

“Upstairs? We—”

“Now. _Please_.”

Bull grinned suddenly at her, and barked a sharp laugh. Then he was moving, standing up, his arms around her as he turned, pushing her down to kneel on the throne, her chest pressed against the back. He wrapped his hands around her hips, tugging her back, her ass out. He slid his finger inside her again and she groaned, rocking back onto it. She turned her head to look at Bull: he had his now half-hard cock in his hand, stroking it as he fingered her, eye intent on her wet pussy.

“Please, Bull,” she said softly. “I want you so much.” She lowered herself onto her hands, raising her ass invitingly, and felt him work a second finger inside her, stretching her pleasantly. “I want you to fuck me. Please fuck me, Bull. I want to feel your big cock inside me.” The lines were hardly original, but they—or possibly her position—seemed to do the trick, and Bull laughed softly and squeezed her ass with his other hand as he moved behind her.

“You really are a filthy little slut, Fenny,” he said softly, and she felt the head of his cock brush up and down her slit before pushing forwards.

She moaned as she felt him finally enter her, and gasped, “Only for you, Bull.”

He edged forward in short strokes, and she made little noises as he worked himself deeper inside her, his hands squeezing her hips tightly. She spread her thighs as far apart on the throne as she could to make his entrance easier, feeling him stretch her, fill her, taking her far past the point where she felt as if she should burst apart or split open. Her hands dug into the seat as he pulled back a little, and she moaned loudly into her arms as he pushed firmly back in, deeper each time. She arched her back, wanting more, impatient to have him buried inside her, leaving her breathless and utterly complete.

Bull groaned as she pushed back at him, pressing his fingers into her hips deep enough to bruise, and he pulled her harder against him. He surged forward, withdrew, pushed deep into her again, his strokes lengthening as they each adjusted to the size of the other. She whimpered as they found a rhythm together, giving herself over to his hands as he pulled her back and forth onto his cock. One of her hands crept down between her thighs to touch herself, seeking the release she'd been denied. Her fingertips brushed over Bull's cock as he drove deep into her, so hot and thick, spreading her so wide around him. When she finally began to rub her clit she almost sobbed with relief, needing to come, wanting to feel him buried inside her when she did.

She barely heard Bull growl, “I didn't say you could come yet, Fenny.” But she did feel the ringing slap on her ass, her head snapping up as she suddenly clenched down on him.

He paused on an in stroke, his cock inside her as he leaned forward and tugged her hand away from her pussy, pulling it behind her back. This time she really did sob, begging, “Bull, _please_. Please let me come. I'll be good, I'll do _anything_ , please, just let me _come_.” She tried to move against him, encourage him to keep going, but he pulled back.

“Give me your other hand, Fenny,” he commanded, voice hard.

“Please, Bull,” she moaned, unmoving. This earned her another slap on her ass for her disobedience, and she gasped and stretched her arm out behind her.

Bull took both her wrists in one hand as he began to move again, letting her balance on her knees, her head raised. He was in complete control of their pace now, Fen helpless as he sped up, pounding into her. She felt wetness trickling down her thighs, knew that even on her knees the seat would be stained in the morning. She panted hard, wondering what she must look like. Naked and restrained, on her knees before her Qunari, his cock buried inside her, bruises at her hips and chest as she was fucked mercilessly on the throne of the Inquisitor. Her unfocused mind flicked back to the scene Bull had conjured earlier, the guards standing silently in the hall watching her be fucked, watching her being taken hard, helpless and wet because of it, filthy and ruined and _used,_ a hundred witnesses to her disgrace.

“My lord, fuck, _please_. Touch me. Please!” She wasn't trying to be quiet any more, all she could think of were the eyes on her and the throbbing between her legs.

She heard Bull groan through her haze, and felt him lean forward, reaching beneath her with his free hand as he ground his hips against her ass. He found her clit and rubbed it with a rough thumb, and Fenny's moan was almost a wail. His strokes were faster now, shorter as he hunched over her, his body warm above her own naked back.

“Come for me, little Fenny,” he growled. “Come on my cock. Such a good girl.” His kissed her shoulder, then bit down hard, marking her again before pulling away. “They want to watch you come, little slut. Come for them. Come for _me_ , Fenny.” He thrust hard into her, too deep, too much, too much of everything, and Fenny shattered apart.

She cried out, half-sob half-scream, as Bull worked her clit and stroked in and out of her, the friction almost painful as she clenched down on him, squeezing his cock as she climaxed in shuddering waves of pleasure. Her back arched, she threw back her head, gasping for air, feeling him push deep inside her as her muscles clutched at him, needing to feel him as deep as she could, needing him to fill her beyond what she thought she could endure, needing to show him how much she needed _him_. Beyond words, beyond thought, there was only his hands and his cock and his mouth on her neck as she rode the crest as long as she could before trembling, tumbling, falling.

She distantly felt Bull release her hands and wrap his arms around her instead, holding her up as he fucked her, pulling her back against him as he drove his cock into her jerkily, his own rhythm falling apart as he gasped her name and buried his face in her hair. He pushed himself deep inside her and she felt warmth spreading through her belly, and a sudden shivering aftershock of bliss ran through her at the thought of it. He held her there for a long moment, lost in pleasure as she relaxed in a haze of her own, only their panting breaths breaking the silence. Letting him take the weight of her in his arms, Fenny ran her small hands over his, humming softly, warm and content. She felt his tense muscles relax, felt him groan softly as she was held against his chest. His grip on her softened, but she held onto his hands to keep them where they were and felt him nuzzle against her neck, breathing hard.

He kissed her behind the ear and she sighed with satisfaction, feeling his cock begin to soften inside her. “Good?” he murmured, kissing her again.

“Mm,” she agreed, and bent her head to kiss the hand at her shoulder.

They parted reluctantly, hands roaming over each other as he pulled away, his cock slipping out of her. Fen felt come trickle after it and knew she must look a mess, but couldn't bring herself to care. She pushed herself upright, staggering a little. Bull tugged his trousers back up, pulling the drawstring tight around his waist and chuckled as he saw her wobbling steps. He turned and sat back down in the throne and held his arms out to her. “C'mere,” he invited. She stumbled over and he tugged her close, scooping her into his lap.

“I should get dressed,” she murmured, with no intention of pulling away. She rested her head against his shoulder, feeling his cooling sweat on her cheek.

“In a bit,” he agreed, pulling her legs up, letting her tuck her bare feet between him and the arm of the throne as he wrapped his arms around her.

“'S nice,” she murmured, then added, “Your pants are gonna get messy.”

“Worth it.” He kissed the top of her head, and then the tip of her ear, and she snuggled closer, his arms warm and comforting.

“Wonder what song they'd make out of this,” Fen sleepily hummed a few bars of The Bull and the Rabbit.

“We fall asleep here and we'll find out.” Bull rested his head against the back of the throne, eye closed.

“Mm,” Fen replied. “We'll go upstairs in a bit.” She yawned. “Just a little longer.”

**Author's Note:**

> That was fun. And my first post to AO3, too. If you'd like to see more of Fenny Lavelly and her large handsome, you can check out my OC blog at threestories.tumblr.com. Thank you for reading!


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